I don't really like change.
This is unfortunate, really, as things tend to change a lot - my family keeps moving, my friends go abroad, I (heaven forbid) change.
My family moved across town when I was in seventh grade. We moved again, halfway across the country, at the end of eighth grade. In eleventh and twelfth grades I was at boarding school (I lived on the same hall both years). I've lived in the same res hall for the two and a half - almost three - years that I've been in college. That's longer than I've lived anywhere since middle school - yes, I go home to the same house every summer, but I'm not there long. I'm here much more.
I'm a lifer. We're a rare breed, we lifers; most people change res halls at some point in their college career. All of my friends from first year moved into other halls sophomore year. You usually have to be pretty determined to be a lifer - I was an RA here last year and I'm an RA here again this year, which helped.
So I wasn't so sure about applying for the House President position: there are two other very qualified people, also lifers, who listed this hall as their first choice for HP. I had no idea what to expect, especially as the Residence Life office was really late in sending out HP decisions this year (HPs usually find out before RAs - this year RAs found out a week earlier). I thought that I might be offered a position elsewhere, and I wasn't sure how I'd feel about that. Some days I think yes, can't wait to get out of here - but I think that's in reference to my college, not to my dorm. Worse than an HP position elsewhere, though, would be a rejection and "consolation prize" of RA. For all that I don't like change, I don't think I can be an RA again.
They finally sent out the emails yesterday. Much to my surprise - I literally gasped in shock - I've been offered the HP position in my dorm. The other two qualified lifers have been offered positions in other halls, where I think they'll both do really well.
It's change, in a way, but it's good change. A step up, I hope.
I'm very proud to be a lifer here.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Critiques
My Creative Writing class is fairly small, 14 students. There was a lot of "competition" to get in - there were more than forty students on the waitlist.
The way the class works is that three people are chosen to be workshopped each week (following a couple of weeks of general stuff, of course; the first full assignment was due two or three weeks in). Each of those people reads her essay aloud to the class. After each essay comes ten or fifteen minutes for the class to write critiques (during this time the author can read, or go to the loo, or hunt down the erstwhile vending machines...). A half-hour or so of discussion follows, for which the author is present but may not talk. At the end the author has a few minutes to ask questions or clarify things. Then it's on to the next essay.
My essay for the first assignment was selected to be workshopped on the first day of workshops. The essay is more or less about high school and it more or less followed the assignment (my professor did say that she thought that the prompt had gotten in the way of my writing the essay... heh. Oh well, all that means is that when I revise I don't have to include certain things).
I had a ton of trouble getting this one started, and, let's face it, it's not a particularly good essay. I knew that when I turned it in - I also knew that it would probably be chosen for workshop anyway. It does have strong points, after all, and there are some things that I do quite well when I write narratives. At any rate, it was chosen.
The workshop went fine. The class made some really good, helpful comments.
Later that evening I read through their written critiques. I sort before I read - I like to put the critiques that I think will be the most helpful at the bottom of the pile (kind of like dessert...). The system's crude, but hey, it's pretty accurate.
Most of the critiques were very tactful, very carefully phrased - this is what worked and why, this is what is not as strong and why. Tact is especially important for this class because it's the personal essay - nonfiction, real experiences. Again, most of the critiques were really quite helpful (there was one that wasn't, near the "slush" end of the pile - I doubt it was intentional, but one critique was really skeptical - critiquing not my writing but my experience. I wtf-ed it and moved on). The strange thing, though, was that reading them made me feel terrible. I'm no stranger to this kind of workshop and critique; this is my fourth CW class here. They weren't even bad critiques; there were a lot of positive comments (and even most of the suggestions were useful (and, what's more, right)). It's probably just because it's nonfiction rather than fiction. A lot harder to warp things to suit your purposes when you're writing nonfiction, unless you want to lie (which I don't). There wasn't anything in the critiques that hurt - just the overall experience.
Something to keep in mind, I guess.
The way the class works is that three people are chosen to be workshopped each week (following a couple of weeks of general stuff, of course; the first full assignment was due two or three weeks in). Each of those people reads her essay aloud to the class. After each essay comes ten or fifteen minutes for the class to write critiques (during this time the author can read, or go to the loo, or hunt down the erstwhile vending machines...). A half-hour or so of discussion follows, for which the author is present but may not talk. At the end the author has a few minutes to ask questions or clarify things. Then it's on to the next essay.
My essay for the first assignment was selected to be workshopped on the first day of workshops. The essay is more or less about high school and it more or less followed the assignment (my professor did say that she thought that the prompt had gotten in the way of my writing the essay... heh. Oh well, all that means is that when I revise I don't have to include certain things).
I had a ton of trouble getting this one started, and, let's face it, it's not a particularly good essay. I knew that when I turned it in - I also knew that it would probably be chosen for workshop anyway. It does have strong points, after all, and there are some things that I do quite well when I write narratives. At any rate, it was chosen.
The workshop went fine. The class made some really good, helpful comments.
Later that evening I read through their written critiques. I sort before I read - I like to put the critiques that I think will be the most helpful at the bottom of the pile (kind of like dessert...). The system's crude, but hey, it's pretty accurate.
Most of the critiques were very tactful, very carefully phrased - this is what worked and why, this is what is not as strong and why. Tact is especially important for this class because it's the personal essay - nonfiction, real experiences. Again, most of the critiques were really quite helpful (there was one that wasn't, near the "slush" end of the pile - I doubt it was intentional, but one critique was really skeptical - critiquing not my writing but my experience. I wtf-ed it and moved on). The strange thing, though, was that reading them made me feel terrible. I'm no stranger to this kind of workshop and critique; this is my fourth CW class here. They weren't even bad critiques; there were a lot of positive comments (and even most of the suggestions were useful (and, what's more, right)). It's probably just because it's nonfiction rather than fiction. A lot harder to warp things to suit your purposes when you're writing nonfiction, unless you want to lie (which I don't). There wasn't anything in the critiques that hurt - just the overall experience.
Something to keep in mind, I guess.
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